


Renaissance

by Paper_Crane_Song



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s02e09 Singularity, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-19 13:58:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17602646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paper_Crane_Song/pseuds/Paper_Crane_Song
Summary: An episode tag to season 2’sSingularity. Hoshi wonders why Malcolm’s opinion of her cooking affected her so much, and Malcolm apologises.





	Renaissance

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve read a few Hoshi/Malcolm fics recently and they inspired me to try and write one of my own. I’ve always loved the idea of those two as a couple, and I think there’s a few moments in Enterprise where I could almost see it happening. _Singularity_ was one of them - when I watched the episode I was like, “Wow, Hoshi sure is going to a lot of trouble to make her cooking less salty just because of something Malcolm said.”
> 
> I hope you enjoy this. Your thoughts and comments are always welcome.

**Hoshi**

I can speak over forty different languages. I can read sixteen more, and as of last week I started learning Ferengi.

But despite this, I still have a hard time understanding Malcolm Reed.

The Lieutenant speaks in understatements, opposites, half-truths and disguise. It’s as if you first need to understand him in order to understand what he is saying. What he’s _really_ saying. As a linguist, I never thought I’d say this, but with him, words just get in the way.

Take our conversation in the mess hall yesterday. I should have known how he felt the second I saw his untouched food, heard his silence hidden under Commander Tucker’s praise.

Me: "How was your oden, Lieutenant?"

Him: "It’s lovely.” ( _Translation: It’s inedible)_

Me: "I’ll get you a fresh bowl.”

Him: "I'm not hungry." ( _Please leave me alone)_

Me: “Are you sure there's nothing wrong with it?"

Him: "Well... it's a bit salty.” ( _It’s like drinking my own sweat)_

And then he beat a tactical retreat and left. 

We’ve had our share of awkward conversations, but why was this one different? Why did I care so much that he, out of all the crew, didn’t like my cooking? Why did I spent hours trying to improve a recipe that I already knew was perfect? Would I have done the same if it was Liz Cutler who’d complained, or Travis, or Commander Tucker?

Why did it bother me that it was him?

* * *

“Is this seat taken?”

Hoshi looked up from her plate and saw Malcolm Reed standing at the table with an empty tray, uncomfortable, self-conscious.

She swallowed her mouthful quickly. “Please,” she said, gesturing.

He sat down opposite her, and then he paused, frowning, as if uncertain of what to do or say next.

She sighed inwardly. She was tired, still a little mortified from yesterday, and she just wanted to eat her breakfast in peace. But he really did look worried, and so, taking pity on him, she smiled encouragingly. He seemed to take heart from this, relaxing enough to engage her in conversation.

“Odd couple of days, don’t you think?”

She rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. From now on I’m staying permanently away from the galley.”

“Ah yes. About that.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to apologise for my rather disparaging remarks about the dish you made. I heard the lengths you went to in order to rectify it -”

Now it was her turn to look embarrassed. “Lieutenant - ”

But he continued, leaning forward slightly: “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but the Reed men in my family have a particular genetic mutation which affects our sense of taste.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Really.”

He nodded earnestly. “It’s quite interesting actually. Sometimes sweet foods can taste quite bitter, and other times certain foods can taste salty when in actual fact they...aren’t.”

She couldn’t keep a straight face any longer. He smiled too, hesitantly at first, but she didn’t miss the way he was watching her, how his eyes lit up at her reaction, the faint blush creeping up his neck.

Before she had time to dwell on this, Travis appeared, tray in hand. “Can I join you guys?”

“Actually I was just leaving,” Malcolm said, getting to his feet, gesturing for Travis to sit. “Ensigns,” he said by way of parting. He nodded to her and there it was again, that mutual flash of awareness. 

She looked away quickly, suddenly flustered, and as Travis started tucking into his breakfast, she looked up again to watch him leave, and as he made his way across the mess hall and reached the door and looked back at her, and their eyes met, she realised - with a sharp shock that set her face aflame -

that she suddenly understood what he was saying after all. 

_Finis_

 


End file.
